


Two Surprises Part 7

by sir_kingsley



Series: Two Surprises [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dad!Dean, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:59:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2664491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_kingsley/pseuds/sir_kingsley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and you decide to leave the bunker to raise your family and Sam's attempt to surprise the two of you could be more of a nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Surprises Part 7

**Author's Note:**

> Look, guys, I fixed it! For now....
> 
> Based off this Tumblr post: http://super-natural-imaginess.tumblr.com/post/98612318542/part-1-requested-by-id-rather-be-sleeping95

Boxes. There were boxes everywhere. There were boxes stacked higher than you, crammed into every corner, stretching the length of walls, weighing down furniture, just sitting in the center of the room with no apparent purpose. It was like a minefield of cardboard and bubble wrap. 

You huffed out a sigh and heaved the box closest to you onto the counter and began pulling out plates and bowls. 

Deciding to leave the bunker had been a difficult decision. It had been home for so long. But you and Dean needed your own place. If you were both going to stay out of the family business, you needed to get away from it. And that meant moving.

Dean had actually been the first to suggest it. You had been anxious. You hadn’t had a home in years, other than the bunker of course. And the thought of leaving was painful. But it was necessary. You didn’t want the twins brought up in that lifestyle and if you stayed at the bunker they would eventually find the rooms full of weapons, notice the weird books, ask why their uncle disappeared for weeks at a time.

So you had agreed to wait until the twins were at least a year old. Your last few months at the bunker had been spent stressfully trying to find an affordable place not too far from Sam, who had decided to stay.

You struck gold on a little three-bedroom house just a half hour or so from the bunker. Dean had managed to secure a job at a local garage. You had both agreed that you would look for work once the twins were a little older. Neither of you were comfortable putting them in daycare right now.

Something gripped your sides and you shrieked, nearly tossing a stack of plates over your head.

Dean’s laughter trembled through your body as he tightened his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Dean,” you gasped, putting the plates down where they would be safe. “D-don’t do that to me!” You slapped at his hand but he only laughed more.

“Sorry, (Y/N),” he murmured near your ear. “You were just so distracted. I took my chance.”

“You’re lucky I wasn’t putting the knives away.” You tilted your head back so you could see his face. His bright green eyes were so close they caught you off guard and your irritation melted away as you stared.

Dean leaned in to kiss your lips. “I would be more careful than that.”

You just chuckled and pulled away to resume putting the dishes up. “Where are the twins?”

“With Sam. In the nursery.”

You situated the last stack of bowls in the cabinet. “Cool. I’ll go check on them, then. Do you and Cas need any help?”

Dean just shook his head. “Nope. Just got the couch and table to move in then we’ll be done. Cas could lift both of them himself.”

“No. No super powers or angel magic,” you chastised as Dean moved toward the door. “We don’t want to freak out the neighbors.”

“I know, I know, I know.” He waved a carefree hand and went to pretend to help the angel.

With all the dishes put away, you went to find Sam. He was in the nursery, which was the only put together room in the entire house. He was bouncing in a circle around the room, Ash in one arm and Ellie in the other, humming some classic rock lullaby that would have made his brother proud.

At fourteen months the twins had finally began to show defining features. Namely, they had blessedly inherited their father’s beautiful green eyes. Their hair was still pretty light and you were crossing your fingers they would also get Dean’s blonde hair. 

Sam saw you and nodded in silent recognition. You watched for another minute or so as he bounced and hummed and twins drifted off to sleep in his arms. Then, carefully, he put them in their cribs and creeped toward the door.

“How’s it going?” he asked once he was safely in the hallway. “You look tired.”

“No, I’m good. It’s good. How’s everything in here.”

“Fine. Got all of their stuff put up and in order. The twins are officially moved in.”

“Good for them.” You looked over your gently snoring babies and then up at the young Winchester. “Thanks Sam.”

He just smiled down at you. “No problem, (Y/N). It was pretty easy.”

You rolled your eyes and hit his arm with a soft punch. “No. I mean for everything. For all your help these last few days. Months really. Thank you.”

Sam’s smile became impossibly softer and he pulled you into a one-armed hug. “I’m always here for you guys, (Y/N). All you have to do was ask.”

And even though you didn’t ask Sam ended up spending the rest of the afternoon and evening there, helping you unpack boxes and move furniture around. Night had long fallen before you all decided you had done enough. Dean ordered a pizza and the four of you ate gathered around a coffee table.

The next couple of days were just as busy with more unpacking and rearranging and organizing. You had never owned your own house before. Dean had lived with a girlfriend for a while but neither of you were particularly homey people and getting one in order was taking time.

Meanwhile, Dean had started working at a garage. He seemed to enjoy it, but he worked long days and by the time he got home at night you were putting the twins down and ready to pass out yourself.

Tonight you had gotten a small break. Sam was babysitting while Dean was at work and you were doing some final shopping. It was really hard to make dinner every night with only one pot and one pan. And when you only had five items of food in your fridge. 

You pulled into the driveway and began loading your arms, determined not to take more than one trip. You fought your way inside the door with a grimace and shuffled toward the kitchen shouting, “Sam, I’m home.”

With a great sigh of relief, you dropped your bags on the counter and stripped off your coat. “Sam?” you called as you hung the garment in the hall closet.

There was still no answer.

Frowning, you began up the stairs. There was a pretty good chance Sam had just passed out in the rocking chair or on the floor. He tended to take naps with the twins.

You eased the nursery door open and your growing smile faltered.

Sam wasn’t there. And neither were Ash or Ellie.

Frowning, you dialed Sam’s number. After a few rings his voice finally answer,   
“Hey-”

“Sam,” you breathed out. “Where did y-?”

“-reached Sam Winchester. Leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.”

There was a loud beep and then silence. Your mouth hung open in shock as you lowered the phone to your side. You shook yourself, trying to fling off the nerves tightening your skin. Sam probably just ran out for food or something. Or took the twins for a walk. 

You took a deep breath and dialed again. Same result.

“Sam?” you called out, putting the phone down as the first tresses of anxiety began to unravel in your gut. “Sam, where are you?”

You hurried down the hall to your room, then flung open the door to the guest room. The bathroom. The hall closet. 

With trembling hands and shallow breaths you pulled out your cellphone and dialed Sam’s number for the third time. Each unanswered ring was like a punch in the gut. And by the time Sam’s voicemail picked up you were gasping for air. 

“Sam,” you sobbed into the phone. “Sam, w-where are you? I-I can’t… I can’t find you or the twins and you didn’t leave a note and I just… I just n-need to know t-that you’re okay. P-please call me. Please.”

You heard the front door open and close and sprinted down the stairs. You were praying to see the overgrown Winchester shuffle through with Ash and Ellie in his arms but your hopes shattered. 

Dean heard your steps and turned around to smile at you before it fell into a concerned frown. “(Y/N), what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Tears were streaming down your face now. “Sam an-and the babies… they’re gone.”

Dean pressed a hand to your cheek, his face a mask of calm. “I’m sure he just took them on a walk or something, (Y/N). Did you call-?”

“He’s not answering his phone.”

Dean pulled out his own phone and dialed. You both waited. Finally he said, “Voicemail. Let me try the other.” You waited again as he called Sam’s second line. When that voicemail picked up, Dean’s frown deepened. “This isn’t right.”

You clutched at Dean’s shirt. “Dean, what if something happened to them? What if something found them and-”

“Calm down. I’ll check upstairs for clues. We have to stay calm, (Y/N).”

You nodded your head and Dean pressed a kiss in your hair and jogged up the stairs. After a few seconds you followed.

Dean did the regular rounds, checking for EMF and sulfur. He looked for hex bags and sigils. By the time he’d checked every room and come up with nothing he was breathing as heavily as you.

“I tried calling Sam again but he’s still not answering,” he said with a choked voice.

“What do we do?” you cried. “Do- do we call the cops? Should we call the cops?”

“First we’ll call Cas and I’ll put a trace on his phones to see if-”

You both heard the sound of flapping wings downstairs and jumped. You spun on your heal and raced down the stairs, Dean right behind. “Cas?” you screamed. “Cas, is that-”?

You broke off as you slid into the kitchen, Dean ramming into you from behind. And you both just stared.

The room was lit solely by candles. They littered every available surface. A white cloth had been tossed over the kitchen table and it was set for two people, a bouquet of roses gracing the center.

You and Dean numbly approached the table, your heads spinning with confusion and hysteria. “What is this?” you whispered.

“Looks like dinner,” Dean replied softly, sniffing the garlic and tomato aroma wafting off of the plates of pasta. “Look.” He snatched a folded piece of paper off the table. You leaned into him as close as possible as he opened it. “Dear (Y/N) and Dean,” he read, “you are both in need of a break. Cas and I will look after the twins tonight. Enjoy dinner and a night to yourselves. P.S. sorry for the scare.”

The note fluttered to the floor and you and Dean just stared absently at the table, the tears slowly drying on both your faces.

“He made us think he and our babies were kidnapped for a surprise date,” you breathed.

“Yep,” Dean muttered.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Yep.”

“Oh my god, I am going to kill him!”

Dean turned and pulled you into his arms as you trembled with fury and relief. He ran a soothing hand through your hair, whispering calming words into your ear. “Shhhh, (Y/N), it’s okay. They’re safe. That’s what matters. They’re safe. Sam and Cas have them and we’ll see them again tomorrow. And we can kiss and hug them and then beat the hell out of Sam and Cas. Okay? It’s okay, (Y/N). They’re fine.”

You sucked in your sobs with deep breaths, stilling in Dean’s embrace. “You’re right,” you murmured. “They’re safe.” You turned your face toward the table and couldn’t help a trickle of laughter. “I can’t believe he did this.”

Dean laughed too and you felt it in your chest. “I know. Who knew Sam could be so romantic?”

“I can’t believe he put so much thought into this plan.”

“Well, it would be a shame to let all his hardwork go to waste…”

You looked up at Dean. “Seriously? You actually want to do this after what we just went through?”

“The twins are safe, (Y/N). And I’m hungry,” he added with a grin.

“Well, I’m not,” you pouted.

Dean picked the bottle of wine off the table and popped the cork. “How about thirsty?”

And that’s how you found yourself three glasses into deep into a delicious Italian dinner, your cheeks sticky with dried tears and a grease-covered Dean across from you.

And you found yourself smiling as Dean talked to you. Not just about his day at work but really talking to you. And you laughed at his jokes and nerdy pop culture references. You laughed until your stomach hurt and more tears were streaming down your cheeks. 

You found yourself full and happy and yet far from fully sated as you stared into Dean’s bewitching eyes sparkling in the candlelight for hours and watching his hands flutter as he spoke, craving to touch them but not being close enough. 

So when dinner was over and a giddy Dean helped you to your wobbly feet, you let the wine steal your balance and leaned against him for a sloppy kiss.

Dean’s hand slid under your shirt and up your back as your mouths moved together, developing a rhythm the longer you went. You were soon both breathless and your bodies were trembling again but for an entirely different reason.

“I’ve missed you, Dean,” you murmured into Dean’s chest.

With a bright smile, Dean lifted you up. Your legs instinctively encircled his waist as your arms locked around his neck. He pecked you on the lips. “I’ve missed you too.”

In time the two of you found your way upstairs and into your bed and you spent a night pressed close. Not one part of your body went untouched and you returned the delicious favor to Dean, reveling in the pleasure you had forgotten the two of you could give each other. 

You fell asleep with an exhausted and blissful smile on your face, held close to Dean’s side with your head on his chest so his heartbeat could lull you to sleep.

You woke before Dean the next morning and you took advantage of the long morning minutes to study his face, memorizing each freckle and every laugh line. You were brimming with delight and what you could never deny was love. Even when you hated to admit it, you loved him so much.

Dean’s eyes fluttered open and you caught your breath. They were so bright in the morning light. “What?” he grumbled, a smile softening his features.

“You have beautiful eyes.”

Dean just stared at you for a beat and then he began to redden and he angled his face away. 

“Are you blushing?” you teased, wiggling closer.

“No,” he lied, turning his head further.

Not to be denied this little pleasure, you crawled on top of him and sandwiched his face between your hands. “You have beautiful eyes,” you repeated. “You are beautiful.”

Dean smiled through his blush and in a heartbeat he had you pinned into the bed and was straddling your hips. He leaned in and brushed his lips over yours. His kiss was slow and gentle and made your body go limp.

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too.”

You spent another hour or so in bed, pressing kisses all over each other, murmuring sweet words. You eventually fell into an easy silence, you draped over Dean’s chest and him tracing circles into your back with a finger.

“Ready to go kill my brother?” Dean asked, breaking the silence.

You hummed into his chest. “That can wait just a little longer.”


End file.
